


Dream With You

by lessiehanamoray



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Gen, Soft Goro Week 2020, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessiehanamoray/pseuds/lessiehanamoray
Summary: Goro Akechi fondly remembers his mother, no matter how hard things were. One night he has a dream and he wakes up the next day more determined than ever to see things through.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26
Collections: Day 3 - Sleep and Dreams





	Dream With You

**Author's Note:**

> Some slight Persona 5 spoilers here concerning Goro Akechi's backstory. This story directly discusses her work, and that's why I rated it Mature. There's nothing explicit, but I thought a Mature rating was a good move. Anyway, I hope you enjoy little Goro.

Goro Akechi let out a mighty yawn. He'd just finished his homework and knew it must be time for bed now. His mama wouldn't be home for a while yet, so he'd have to lay out the futons himself.

First though, a little treat. He wandered over the tiny kitchen, scanning the counter for a good before bed snack.

Nothing.

Ah well, a little bit of warm water would do just as well. He really liked tea, but his mama didn't like him drinking it right before bed, so he'd learned to just drink hot water for relaxation. He set a small pot on their single burner.

He yawned again.

That water would take a bit. Their burner didn't run very hot. Mama had explained it was a very cheap burner they'd bought used, but as long as the chord stayed intact everything would be fine. They'd had it forever too, at least, as forever as a seven year old could imagine. He never remembered a time without it.

No reason to just stand there. Goro slid open a large closet door. Two futons, both stained and somewhat lumpy, and some bedding sat inside. And most of their clothes. And all his books. The apartment didn't have a lot of room, so his mama had crammed everything she could on the closet floor.

It fit most of their stuff.

Goro drug out one of the futons. Staggering under the weight and sheer bulkiness, he stumbled a few steps before dropping it on the floor. He found it easier to roll out the mattress and then slide it where he needed.

In winter, he and mama slept with their feet under the table. In summer though, they set out their futons in the middle of the floor. Mama always said he could separate them if he felt hot, but he always put the two mattresses right next to each other.

He always slept better next to his mama, hot or cold.

The phone rang.

Goro hopped over the futon to reach the small phone by the door. He lifted the phone off its hook, but didn't immediately answer. His mama had taught him to always wait until the caller spoke first. He knew from doing skits in school that many people thought it was rude, but it was what mama had taught him. How could it be wrong?

"Goro, sweetie?"

Goro beamed. "Mama."

"Hey, sweetie." She sounded weird over the phone. And even more tired than usual. "I need to ask you a favor."

"What?"

"Can you sleep in the closet tonight?"

Sleep in the closet?

"Your futon fits in there, right?"

"Sort of." She had a client, didn't she?

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I've got a surprise guest coming over tonight. We'll try not to wake you."

"I don't mind, mama."

"Thank you. And you know what?" He could hear her smile. "He's paying extra. For the short notice. I'll make sure to treat you."

"I'm okay, mama."

"I know you're okay, Goro, but I want you to be happy."

"I'm happy too, mama."

"Is that so?"

"I have you."

"You're too sweet."

"So, your futon in the center with the special sheets, right?"

"That's right. I’m sorry, Goro. You shouldn't have to know this."

"I told you, mama. I don't mind."

"Alright, sweetie. I need to get back to work. I'll see you in the morning."

"Have a good night, mama."

"You too, Goro. My precious Goro."

The phone clicked. She'd hung up. Mama wasn't one for staying on after goodbyes.

Goro slowly hung the phone back up. He didn't like strange men coming home. Not when he was still around. They got weird when they saw them. Sometimes they started acting weird toward him, but usually they just started screaming at his mama.

Why?

Goro turned back to the kitchen. He slowly moved over the futon. He wanted to kick it. Make sure it got extra lumpy and awful, but they needed to take care of their stuff. Mama had taught him that. He turned the burner off.

He'd have to set her futon up all nice and pretty, with the sheets she washed more regularly than anything else. And then...he glanced over to the closet. Sure, he could fit in there. Could even sleep in there.

But he'd rather be with his mama.

Goro Akechi sighed. Wants never counted for much.

He heard them come in. The man was obviously drunk, and Goro hated him immediately, even if he was paying extra. He hated all these men. They did something to his mama. Sometimes she sounded happy and excited when they were with her. Other times she would grunt in pain. Some mornings she was so sore she could barely make breakfast.

Goro forced his eyes shut. His mama was doing her best, so he had to too.

"Goro? Goro, sweetie." A hand touched his shoulder.

Goro turned to face his mother. "Mama? Is it morning already?"

"No, sweetie. I could hear you crying."

Crying? Goro slowly turned so he could sit up with his legs hanging off the shelf. He touched a hand to his face.

"Oh."

"I didn't wake you ,did I? When I came in?"

She never mentioned the people she came in with. He didn’t quite get it, but he knew she didn’t like to talk about her job. She’d warned him to never talk about it with anyone.

"Not really."

"A nightmare?"

"Maybe."

She held out her arms, helping Goro clamber out of the closet.

"Why don't you put some water on, sweetie? I'll get my bed changed."

Oh yeah, her normal sheets were still in the closet. No wonder she'd heard him crying.

He still couldn't remember why though.

Goro started the water and pulled down their mugs. His was a Phoenix Feathermen mug with a crack in the top. Her was a plain brown mug, but without a crack. He'd gotten his mug for his fifth birthday, and it had always had the crack.

"Can I have tea, mama?"

"Sure, but brew it weak. I could use some too."

"Okay." Goro pulled out a small tin of tea and pulled out one bag.

"Do yours first."

"But I like it bitter."

"Goro," she chided. "I told you weak, didn't I?"

"Yes, mama."

Goro dropped the tea bag in the Feathermen mug.

It didn't take too long for the water to boil, and it took his mother even less bed to strip and change her futon.

Goro seeped the tea just a couple moments in each mug before bringing them over. His mother had pulled out one of his older books, and was flipping through it with a small smile.

"Mama?"

"Oh, thank you." She placed the book on her futon and took the mug.

He smiled back at her. She had changed into her giant t-shirt. She looked way more like mom in that than any fancy club uniform. She patted the mattress beside her.

Goro sat down.

"I feel like I haven't read to you in years."

"I can read on my own." Goro side-eyed the book she'd pulled out. It was an old picture book he'd told her to leave behind last time they moved. He didn't need stuff for little kids anymore.

"Don't give it that look. The book did nothing wrong."

"It made our bags heavier." Goro hated moving. They always shoved their worn out futons and kitchen stuff in a giant box, but they carried everything else.

And books were heavy.

"Goro Akechi, you need to learn to value these things."

"An old book I never read?"

"An old book filled with stories we can share," his mother corrected. She picked the book up again.

"And pictures that someone worked very hard to draw for us."

"I guess." Goro sipped his tea. He didn't really care what the book had or meant. As long as it equaled more time with his mamma, he could like it.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Would you like a bedtime story?"

"I guess?"

"Well, we're both awake anyway."

"You woke me up."

"You were crying."

Goro looked away.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I just couldn't leave you alone in there while you were upset."

"I'm not upset."

"That's good.” She brushed her cheek against his head. “You know what, sweetie? Sometimes we just need to cry. It's nice to have a place to do it quietly, but I want to know when you're that sad, okay?"

"I'm not..." Goro sighed. "Could you read me a story about a hero?"

"A hero, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't think they have Robin Hood in here."

"You're the one who likes Robin Hood so much!"

She laughed. A nice full one too. One that made her snort a little like a pig.

"Well then, if you don't like Robin Hood, I guess I should keep my old movies to myself."

"No!" Goro exclaimed. "I-I like him. Robin Hood. He's my favorite."

She tousled his hair. "I know, sweetie."

"Then why'd you...?"

"Because I want to keep you honest."

"Honest?" Goro took a deep breath. "Mama?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I love you."

"I know, sweetie."

"And,” he stuttered a little. His mamma worked so hard. He didn’t want to make it worse. “Every time you...every time you bring a man home, I worry."

"Why is that?"

"Because sometimes they hit you. And sometimes, we have to move right away. And sometimes...sometimes they..."

"Goro." She gently played with his short brown hair. "I will never let anything bad happen to you."

"But what if they hurt you?"

"I can take care of myself, sweetie. And I've got enough strength left over to take care of you too."

"But I want to take care of you."

"And you do, in your own way, but when it comes to men, let me handle it. Some of them...some people get the wrong idea when they see a kid at a..” she searched for the word for a bit before continuing with a deep sigh, “prostitute's home." She slid her hand down, wrapping Goro in a tight hug. "But they're wrong. I do what I do because I have to, and I make it work. I understand why I do it. And sometimes, sometimes, Goro, it's actually kind of fun."

"Fun?"

"I meet so many people. And I learn so much about them. My co-workers are all fearless, and we look out for each other. Our clients aren't always the best, but my comrades make up for it."

"It's really fine?"

"All jobs are hard, Goro. They're just hard in different ways. And different for different people too." She picked up the book once more.

"Imagine how hard staying brave is when you're only one inch." She flipped through the pages, scanning over the illustrations.

"Or what life would be like with no bones,” she added upon seeing an illustration of a jellyfish.

"Gross."

"Or how a tea kettle must sit over a fire." She shifted the book over so he could see an image of a tanuki with a tea kettle for a body, fleeing an old monk. "Imagine how that must feel."

"I don't remember that story."

"You don't remember 'The Magic Teakettle'?"

Goro shook his head. "It looks silly."

"Well, shall we read about a teakettle while we drink our tea?"

Goro nestled closely against his mother. "Okay, mama. Tell me about the tanuki with a tea kettle for a body."

"Well, first off, it didn't really have a teakettle for a body. He was a tanuki named Bumbuku, and he was in disguise..."

  
  


Goro Akechi slowly opened his eyes to the morning sun. A few stray tears glimmered on his lashes, distorting the light. He slowly sat up in his small bed.

Gravity pushed the tears off his lashes and onto his cheek.

He remembered that night. Or maybe it had just been an amalgamation of many nights. He wasn't sure he'd been quite so scared of the men at that age yet. Or had he just not trusted strangers? He couldn't remember.

He slowly stood. The wood floor felt strange after dreaming of a run-down apartment with its worn out tatami.

He flipped on the kettle, far more efficient than that old burner had ever been.

"I do what I do because I have to," he whispered. He opened a small drawer with a variety of teas and some instant coffee.

Tea for now, he decided. He'd hit up a cafe for some decent coffee later.

He placed the bag in a nice ceramic mug. No cracks. An elegant glaze decorated the mug in white and red. He’d gotten it because it reminded him of the heroes in kabuki plays.

Goro had a long day ahead of him. Today marked his first time as an invited guest on a news program. It wasn’t much, but he had to make a strong first impression.

"All jobs are hard." He sighed, moving over to the fridge to grab a container of natto. "They're just hard in different ways."

He nabbed some chopsticks and opened the container. He'd have to stir some mustard in, but it worked for a quick breakfast.

Different ways, huh? Materialistically speaking, he had more than he had ever even wanted. He had nice clothes. Nice dishware. He could go out to eat whenever he wanted, and he rarely felt hungry.

But it was hard. Hard putting on the mask. Hard smiling at a room full of strangers. Hard pretending he didn't hurt all the fucking time. Hard not screaming out at the world.

How had his mother not screamed her rage every night? Her sorrow? How had she kept it all hidden from him for so long?

Why had she never told him why she cried?

Goro grabbed his phone.

A red app with an eye flashed on the screen.

She’d kept it all in. All the rage, all the humiliation, and all the sorrow. She’d kept it all in so all her son could see was the love.

And it had killed her.

Goro opened the app, scanning down a list of saved names. 

So be it. He'd scream for her. Scream it out in their minds . Make sure that deep down, everyone knew what the resounding emptiness felt like. What the hole his mother had left behind meant to him.

And he'd take down the person who had ruined his life. The people who had ruined it. First the man, and then the son.

Goro Akechi sighed. He'd pursue his dreams, even if they ended in self-destruction.

**Author's Note:**

> The first part was sweet I hope? I've wanted to write with his mom for a while now, so I'm glad I finally did, even if it's a dream. I really wanted him to love his mother, but hate the men he felt took her away from her. Her job bothers him for the same reason a job might bother any child.


End file.
